Hard to Forget
by Yokomi
Summary: Try as he might, it's hard to forget someone who gave him so much to remember.


**Author's Notes:** Hello! Hope you enjoy this! It's more from Naruto's POV, I think it's my first time writing Naruto like this XD Please tell me I didn't do too badly!

 **Disclaimer:** I OWN NOTHING!

 **Hard to Forget**

It was that time of year again. That one day that he could never forget. For this young boy, it was the most important day in his life, it was the day he was born. Normal children would celebrate that very important occasion; they would invite their friends and eat cake with them and their families.

However, normal children had normal friends and families they could celebrate their birthday _with_.

This boy, with the cerulean blue eyes and spiky, golden hair, had no one. Not a single, living person in this whole village even _tolerated_ him, except for Old Man Hokage (but wasn't it Jiji's _job_ to like him? The boy with the whisker marks on his cheeks did not really know).

But the boy noticed, as his sixth birthday came and went, that many people knew _when_ his birthday was, or at least, tried to make his life miserable on that day. They often came to him on that day, drunk and angry, with empty bottles in their hands and the promise of pain in their eyes. He would run and they would follow. He would not look back, but he could hear their frustrated footfalls behind him, could make out their voices, yelling at him and at each other, _get that demon, don't let him get away! Kill him!_ And he was left wondering what he did to deserve such treatment.

He wondered what life would be like, if he _weren't_ Uzumaki Naruto. He hated himself, he hated his parents and he hated his life. How could they leave him to fend for himself like this? What awful, terrible thing have they done to deserve the villagers' hatred? Knowing that living someone else's life was impossible, the boy lived on in his own life.

And the boy decided he would celebrate his own birthday in his own way. He would have fun, he would prank everyone, and at the end of the day, he would laugh at their angry, exasperated expressions. He chuckled evilly as he remembered that Jonin's _priceless_ expression when he all but dumped a whole bucket of neon orange paint on him. His legs still ached due to his attempt at escaping soon after, but the boy closed his eyes in bliss; it was totally worth it.

The Jonin followed him around for hours before finally giving up and leaving the _demon brat_ to his own devices. His bright blue eyes dulled as he remembered that Jonin muttering darkly under his breath, cursing him and calling him a _demon_ over and over. And the boy grinned, knowing that this time, he was being called a demon for something he had done.

The boy's grin did not falter as he walked through the village's streets, earning every passerby's, every shop owner's, and every parent's heated, dangerous glare as well as the confused, curious look of every child.

"That wasn't very nice, Naruto," someone said, making him stop in his tracks, a dumbfounded expression soon replacing his grin. _Someone_ knew his name. Someone called him by his _name_. And the boy ignored the chastise because someone reached out to him and called him _Naruto_ , not brat, not demon, not demon brat but _Naruto_.

The boy looked to the direction of the voice to see a tall person with short silver hair falling in step beside him. But the boy would not trust this man with the white mask, he _wouldn't_ because experience taught him not to _(he remembered an old woman who had asked for his help only to lead him straight to an angry mob's waiting hands, and winced)._

He stopped to curiously study this man who took the extra few steps to stand _right there_ , so close to him they were almost touching, and the boy could not sense any maliciousness coming from him, none at all. Despite him being the demon brat, despite him being the village's menace, despite it being October tenth.

"Who are you, dattebayo?" he asked, not trusting yet, maybe never trusting, and perhaps a bit rudely _(but there was no one there to teach him better)._

"Just a friend," the man said, "It's your birthday today," And the boy was perplexed because it didn't sound like a question but he nodded anyways, internally getting ready to start running, "You're turning seven," The boy scratched his head, getting more confused by the second, but he nodded again.

"How did you know, dattebayo?" he had to ask, because no one but Jiji knew, but this man _did_ _know_ somehow. The man shrugged.

"Did you ever try cake?" the man with the mask asked, the boy shook his head.

"The people at the bakery say I'm not allowed any because I don't have enough money to buy it, dattebayo," There was a moment where the man tensed, the boy's eyes, having been trained to catch such sudden movements, supplied.

"Well, let's go try some. I'll buy it for you," the man's voice held no room for argument, but the boy didn't follow when the man started moving. He gripped the ends of his shirt so hard his knuckles were turning white. His mind was screaming _danger_ , but his heart wanted to believe this man was really here to be just a friend, _his_ friend.

"Why?" And the man stopped in his tracks, he whipped around so fast the boy didn't even see him do it, but he was suddenly right there again, in front of him with a hand on his head, ruffling his hair slightly but not painfully.

"Because it's your birthday, and I'm your friend. I'm here to celebrate your birthday with you," the man said and the boy beamed, having been forever hoping, wishing, _dreaming_ that someone, _anyone_ would utter those very words, "…unless you don't want to," And the boy latched onto the man's arm without even thinking, closing his eyes, expecting the man to brush him off, turn around and leave without a second glance. But he needed to try and keep him, this man who offered him cake, who didn't even know him, who wanted to be _his_ _friend_.

Then, the boy gasped, his legs dangling uselessly above the ground. The boy took a deep breath, waiting for the hurt that would surely come once he was thrown to the ground… he waited for the pain… that never came.

Instead, he felt two strong arms hold him close, rub his back before they were flying, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. The boy loved the feeling of complete freedom and safety he felt, securely strapped to the man's chest, as they leapt from one building to another until they landed on the ground again in front of the bakery.

The man set him down and went into the bakery. The boy hesitated, took a deep breath then went to stand beside the waiting man.

"Not again," he heard the owner of the bakery mutter under his breath, "Listen, demon brat," the middle-aged woman stated emotionlessly as she came to tower over the boy's short frame, "We've been over this millions of times before, so just spare us both a lot of time and _leave_ ," she said with a glare that made the boy shiver.

"Excuse me," the man who was supposed to be his friend said quietly and the woman grinned at him.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Shinobi-san, I'll be right with you, just when I take care of this little menace-"

"That little menace happens to be my friend," the man interrupted and the boy had to stifle a giggle because that woman just froze over, " _Naruto_ and I want to have some cake. If you do not want to treat Naruto with the respect he deserves, then, we will leave and buy from someone who _does_ ," The woman had the decency to look ashamed as she mustered enough dignity to ask them for their order, "Naruto, what do you want?" the man asked and the boy could thank him a hundred times over.

"Can it be a chocolate cake, dattebayo?" he asked excitedly and the man nodded. Soon, they were both seated at a bench in the park, each with a piece of the large cake. The boy ended up eating over half of the cake, hungry as he was. The man chuckled at the boy's chocolate covered face. Then, they went to the boy's apartment and the man put the rest of the cake in the almost useless fridge.

"Happy birthday, Naruto. Good-bye," And the boy wished he had said 'See you later' because the next day, he didn't see the man, nor the day after that or even the day after _that_. Every day, the boy woke up, hoping that today would be the day his friend came again, only to be disappointed yet again after waiting for the whole day without even seeing him.

His eighth birthday was coming and the boy was scared. The people didn't come to hurt him last year, but if the man didn't come to have cake with him this year, he was sure they would come again. That's why he waited for the first, shining star every night, closed his eyes, crossed his fingers and _wished_.

His heart was beating especially loudly on the morning of October tenth. There was someone knocking on his door. Needless to say, the boy was too afraid to open it. His brain, his logical side, told him it was highly unlikely that someone here to hurt him would knock on his door, but his heart, his childish side, was screaming _don't open!_ And the boy decided to trust his heart because what did his brain know anyways?

But the knocking wouldn't stop. So the boy took a deep, steadying breath and looked through the peep hole. His nervous expression broke into a grin. It was Old Man Hokage!

He opened the door and let Jiji in. Jiji was too busy nowadays, he never really saw him, and if he did, it was never for long. As it was, Jiji only stayed for a few minutes, making sure everything was okay in his apartment before excusing himself, barely remembering to wish him a happy birthday on his way out. But the boy kept a grin plastered on his face until he closed the door, and the cheerful demeanor fell off like plaster would fall off a wall.

He went to close the window he didn't remember opening _(ninjas can slip through open windows and their hits usually bruise and hurt a lot)._

"Hi again, Naruto," the boy almost jumped out of his skin and he quickly backpedaled and pressed his back against the wall, "Sorry to startle you," the man said but he didn't _sound_ sorry, "Hope you still remember me," And Naruto _did_ , he did and he wished he would come back _every_ day.

"Hi," he replied with a big, true smile, "Are you here to celebrate my birthday with me, dattebayo?" he asked eagerly and had to fight the urge to laugh when the man nodded.

"I'm sorry, Naruto, but this is the last time I'm going to come see you for a while," the man with the mask stated and this time he sounded sorry.

"Why?"

"I can't really tell you that, sorry," the man said and as if to try and change the sullen atmosphere that had fallen upon them, he continued, "But I'm going to tell you a few things, secrets, actually, you can't tell anyone about these things, not even the Hokage… I hope you hold onto them and always remember them, okay?"

"What kind of things?" He couldn't see the man's face, but he could hear his smile.

"You'll see, just listen, okay? No interruptions," At the boy's nod, the man started, "Your parents were great people. They were awesome, actually. They were the kindest, gentlest, most patient people I have ever known," And the boy just gaped because this man _knew_ his parents, "Well, your mother was kind of easy to anger, but it was always when her precious people got hurt that she got angry. Oh, and she always used to say 'dattebane' at the end of her sentences, like you," the man seemed to stop to take breath before he continued, "Your father was really strong, he could beat _anyone_ ,"

"Anyone?" the boy asked with wonder in his eyes.

"Anyone," the man confirmed with a nod, "But he was really forgiving. He could see the good in people, even when no one else could. They both loved ramen,"

"Is that why they called me 'Naruto', dattebayo?" he had to ask.

"That, and because of a character in a book they loved. They wanted you to grow up to be just like that character,"

"How was he like?"

"He never gave up and never went back on his word. He was always hopeful, too," the masked man stopped, "I have to go now, Naruto. I'm sorry. I promise I'll come back later. Until then," And then the man was gone. But Uzumaki Naruto had so many questions left to ask. If his parents were really awesome like that man said they were, then why did the villagers hate him? If his parents were really the kindest people ever, then how could they leave their own son alone?

But none of that mattered now because the man told him about his parents. And Naruto found out how they were _like_. He found out he took after his mother and said 'dattebayo', he found out he took after his father as he tried to see the good in everyone, even the villagers who hurt him. He discovered he wanted to be just like that character they named him after, and he vowed then and there, that he would never, ever give up and that he will _always_ keep his promises.

Years later, after Naruto had come back from his training with Jiraiya of the Sannin and was just finishing off training (that started late as always) with his team, he waited until everyone had left the training field.

"Hey, Naruto, are you okay?" his teacher asked worriedly from his place under a tree. Naruto nodded as he walked towards the exit of the field before he stopped and looked back at the man with the black mask obscuring the lower half of his face.

"Ne, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto waited for the older man to look at him, "Thank you for keeping your promise, dattebayo" he said before he turned and ran home.

Try as he might, it's hard to forget someone who gave him so much to remember.

 **The End**

 **Author's Notes:** I hope you enjoyed this story! It was really fun to write, but I thought the ending was bit rushed. What do you think? Please R&R!


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